I can’t believe what a flake I’ve been to you, of all people. You who has never let me down, you who always comes through in the eleventh hour, you who accommodates me so much…
But I haven’t been myself the last few months. Or maybe I’ve been going through some kind of transformation, not to be a flake, god I hope not.
I can’t explain it or really put my finger on it. I feel my productivity is slipping away, like I can’t seem to get even the easiest of tasks done. I’m not good at being a housewife. I shop too much. And I keep thinking I need a vacation, but I’ve sort of had several now, and it hasn’t seemed to help.
I can’t find a well-paying job, this one client that was supposed to give me ALL this work bailed, so I’m back to, I don’t know, blogging I suppose, and twittering, and really trying to write, although my efforts have been going to the third Sex, Life, & Hannah book lately, which is so ridiculous when I only have three pages to go with Lila, but I can’t seem to finish. I want to finish, I have ideas of how to finish, but now this whole Sex, Life, & Hannah thing…
Thank you for doing without the pictures, what is your website now? I want to check it out, and twitter about it. God, if the social networking doesn’t kill me, this new reality TV show I’ve been asked to do just might. Yes, reality TV. I should tell you the details over the phone, but in a nutshell: they want female writers to write about their life, relationships, sex, experiences, love. It’s weird, I’m sort of doing all that anyway, but this would be more personal, and more public all at the same time, and my parents may really disown me. But what’s life if you don’t take any risks?
Hubbie has sort of signed off on the whole thing. Sort of. He’d really much rather I don’t drag our private life through the mud, but I keep telling him: we can be better and smarter than the Kardashians. Although who knows if that’s what America really wants. Do they want better and smarter, or do they just want hot ass? And sex tapes? Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that, but it’s not what I’m about.
I’m still going to send you the pictures. Tonight. I’m doing it. Just in case. And I will finish Lila, though, I’m not going to give myself any timelines. For fear of looking like a flake again.
Love, love, love, and happy 2011 my dearest jerome, xoxoxo, D:)